March 19th - 25th (10 weeks to go...)
Kms / week: 250kms
Part 1
The largest pack of TDC riders to date (well it would have been if they had all been in team kit…) assembled in the balmy pre-dawn of Saturday morning… ready to head north along the Pacific Highway towards Killcare… Sprits were unusually high, there were less hangovers per capita than normal, and Michael Bolt was a mere 10 minutes late (consuming his second Red Bull of the morning as he arrived). So, all the signs were there for an outstanding day on the road for the TDC team!
Pre-Dawn - Pacific Highway
And so it transpired… The dawn was stunning, breaking through on our right, whilst we climbed above the clouds and fog on our left. And as NSW headed to the polls to re-elect the lesser of the two evils, the TDC crew enjoyed a morning of winding descents, gradual inclines, bellbirds singing, and outstanding coffee at Road Warriors… Even the dreaded Wards Hill proved no match for the team, and even those like Choppy who were first time on “the monster” managed to ascend sans sweat (well maybe there was a little perspitation…?)
(probably) exchanging marathon stories on the Pacific Highway
Indeed there was much banter along the lines of “who wants to do another 50?” when we arrived… but somehow that cheap talk dissolved right about the same time as the Jacuzzi was turned on, and the first round of beers emerged (at 11.15am! not that I was monitoring the clock!)… An afternoon on the beach in 31 degree temperature, some newspaper reading, fishing, poker, and a couple of glasses of red rounded out a pretty perfect day!
Frontrunner for the January slot in the "Men of TDC" Calendar for 2008
Part 2
Well… you could have thought you were in Melbourne given the change in weather! The house nearly blew away in the overnight storm! The wind whipped up from the south, and with it came the driving rain… And perversely, everyone was still in a good mood before breakfast. There were a variety of plans for getting home, ranging from a 6.00am departure (yeah right!!), through to my own secret plan which involved letting everyone else go first, then setting off on my own to Woy Woy station, catching the train to North Sydney, and cycling the remaining 2 kms to where my car was parked…
Alas, somehow all the disparate ideas morphed into one departure group, and there really was no place for me to hide… And with due respect, I got a sense of the dread that soldiers must have felt when waiting to jump the trench walls… This seemed to be (and was) madness of the highest order – and yet it seemed I was the only one feeling it! Choppy was even applying liberal coatings of sunscreen on his legs – ridiculous optimism if ever there was…
More challenges for the Lear-Jet’s landing gear (ie. his wheel set), where a spoke popped overnight in the garage, and a valve burst under pressure, (thankfully) delayed our departure! But with some fine tuning by Mike Bolt (making himself useful before that leisurely drive home), we were soon underway!
And that’s where the fun started… Or it would have been if it wasn’t bucketing down, and if we weren’t pushing into the teeth of what felt like a mini-cyclone… And Ward’s Hill, having been dominated the day before, exacted a little revenge when Jac came to grief on the first hairpin… Quite a scary sight to see someone lying on a blind hairpin bend, struggling to get out of the cleats… Thankfully the support vehicle was on hand to whisk her back to Sydney. As her ‘buddy’ for the day, I had been instructed to stay close all day – but alas when I tried to get a ride back too – there was no room at the inn… Onwards, southwards for me and the rest of the team!
More trouble for the Lear-Jet with another broken spoke and another flat… Secretly I love all these technical mishaps, as it allows more rest time… But I think Geoff is a wake-up to me now, and he ordered me and the rest of the team to continue while repairs are carried out! My coup came a bit later, when we were ascending Mount White (or Mont Blanc as Denver likes to call it). A kid (with less clues on bicycle maintenance than me, if that’s possible) had sustained a puncture, and was basically waiting by the side of the road (for what I’m not sure). I offered to help him, and then Geoff actually did the repairs – while I recuperated by the side of the road! I don’t think my laziness went un-noticed, but I was past caring by that point! Sorry Geoff!!
Rejuvenated, I challenged Gary to a hill sprint… “Let’s see what you’ve got, big guy!”, I proffered as I sailed past… Well, here’s what he had: (i) enough strength to get back past me in about 2.5 seconds, (ii) enough speed to continue pulling away for the rest of the climb, and (iii) enough time to get to the top, come back down again and beat me a second time around… A point well made… I was relegated to my usual place down the back, looking out for cars and motorbikes, and yelling out “Car. Back!” to the cyclists ahead. Everyone has their role on the team, and that’s mine…
March 12th - 18th (11 Weeks to go...)
Km's / Week: 185 kms
Nothing much to report here, except to say that if anyone ever invites you to do the "Three Peaks" ride, through Berowra Heights and Galston Gorge, there's enough information there to be able to say, "thanks anyway - but I'm concentrating my training on flat roads this week!"
March 5th - 11th (12 Weeks to go...)
Km's / Week: 355
I imagine the scene was something like Hillary planting the flagpole in the snow, turning to Norgay and muttering, “not sure what all the fuss was about, are you? It’s just a hill…”
But there we were, in similar vain on Saturday afternoon… The famous five astride their bikes atop Ward’s Hill… Learjet, Loey, George, Jac (requiring nickname) and myself… reflecting on the achievement of taming the monster that had brought us unstuck a fortnight before (well myself and Loey anyway!). This time there were no casualties, no stopping half way up. No almost toppling over backwards off the sheer hairpin bends. Just dogged determination and a steely resolve which had been building over the previous 110kms since we left Centennial Park (and those that just turned up to have their pictures taken) behind…
Another 'highlight' for me was at the 60km mark, when I was half way up an ascent, George rode up beside me and gave me a hug! He was obviously "feeling the love"!! If the boys from the footy club could have seen me... Shaved legs, lycra'ed body, being cuddled on a hill climb by a 90kg man! Jeez - what's become of me...
Loey - Running Repairs (notice everyone jumping in to help)
"Portrait of the author waiting for everyone at the top of Peats Ridge"
What a great ride guys. And an awesome place to finish up Loey. Many thanks again for the hospitality at Killcare!
The ride back the next morning was uneventful, with the exception of the Learjet popping a spoke, and the chief mechanic George working wonders to get him back on the road… While I lay in the gutter on the side of the road, and tried to recuperate from the previous hill climb…
Learjet praying to the cycling gods to leave his spokes alone! (I had to lie down for 15 minutes to get this shot...)
I learned a new manoeuvre on the way back… The “Pace Line”. My interpretation of this concept was that Learjet & George should take turns up front, while I sheltered lamely down the back… Alas, there was no place to hide – and I found myself up front taking the odd share of the workload into the wind… We averaged about 30kms an hour in this formation – making it from the Pie in the Sky to a sausage roll in Darling Point in just under 2 hours…
Monday morning (this morning) the body screamed as if to say “by day 3 of the tour you’ll be history!!”… Back to the drawing board tomorrow!
Feb 26th (13 Weeks to go...)
Km's / Week: 286
A week of highs and lows, agony and ecstasy... Well - I'm probably being melodramatic, but I did cop a bit of a hiding on the regular Maiseys ride, when a newcomer (Jacinta) passed me going up a hill, and muttered "don't let a chick beat you up the hill..." Well, do you think I heard the end of that one...?! A subsequent google search revealed that she came 8th in the National Ironman Championships - and whilst I'm no expert, I'm assuming that means she goes alright! And besides (as regular readers would appreciate) it's not the first time I've been passed by a girl going up a hill, and it won't be the last... And I have suggested to Jacinta that she might learn some of the finer points of polite humiliation from Kate!
So that was the lows... Sunday's ride welcomed in the highs! Josh, Geoff and myself headed south... Past the 6.00am revellers at the Mardi Gras at Fox Studios (some of the boys looked like they'd been out all night!), down to Waterfall, and through the Royal National Park. And then on to places I've only ever heard about in the T.A.B... Namely Dapto (dishlickers) and Albion Park (trots). The ride was spectacular in parts, some great descents (one of which had me in the dirt on the wrong side of the road, when I cornered too fast), and a few nice climbs too... Highlight was the coast road around Stanwell Park / Clifton - where the road literally juts out from the cliff-face over the ocean! Magic!
Max & Josh - Ocean Road at Stanwell Park
Geoff & Josh - Ocean Road at Stanwell Park
And whilst it was a very slow start for me for the first 100kms, I was so pumped full of energy goo's, caffeine, sugar and powerbars that by the 110km mark I felt super-human, like Floyd Landis on that magical hill stage last year - minus the (alleged) testosterone shots!
Josh was the powerful lieutenant, George Hincape-style... Setting the pace, and leading the (somewhat small) pack ever southwards. He lead some great climbs, and with heart-rate near maximum, smoked Geoff and myself (now there's a shock) up many of the hill sections!
Geoff was ever efficient - also doing a lion's share of the wind-breaking... and magically appearing every time the camera came out! He powered on another 30kms after Josh and I pulled out - making a neat 150kms for the day, and a tantalising 20kms short of a 500km week! Great stuff Coombsey!!
Feb 19th (14 Weeks to go...)
Km's / Week: 266
After a bit of a pep-talk on Sunday night (suggesting that people who are not fit enough will have to travel in the support van if they can't keep up!), I'm ready to step up the training to the next level... Or, am I...?
Early on in the ride... (before "That Hill!!")
Monster ride on Saturday! Sydney to Killcare, ferry to Palm Beach, Palm Beach back to Sydney. 150kms in total, including the following highlights: (i) A category 1 climb (or category 4 - whichever is the hardest)... Actually for memory "the other tour" has some hills which are deemed "unclassifiable!" This was one definitely of those - and appeared at the 100km mark, coming into Killcare!! Needless to say, with soul destroyed, I got off the bike (Sally Robbins-style) and started pushing. The ignominy of watching Kate, Gary and Mal cruise up past my shattered self was overwhelming... (where was Stu when I needed him??), (ii) a four hour rest at Killcare (including lunch, spa and a nap) was probably not ideal - as it made it very very hard to don the stinking lycra again, and head off alone... (iii) the return trip from Palm Beach included 3 near miss accidents (it was witching hour on Pittwater Road), a southerly change (which I unfortunately learned meant that the wind came from the south, and not the other way around), torrential rain, and my second puncture for the day. I searched in vain for maxi-cabs, the ones that can hydraulically lift you into the back. Alas, I was on my own... Got home at 7pm, showered and went out to dinner... At 9.00pm I was sent home in disgrace for not contributing anything (literally nothing) to the dinner conversation...
Feb 12th (15 Weeks to go...)
Km's / Week: 98
I got to the point where I didn't get dropped off the back of the pack, and made the whole ride un-assisted! There was once a time when one of the guys in the pack would need to cycle up beside me going up steep hills, put a hand on my back and push me a few hundred metres to stop me rolling backwards down the hill (Thanks Stu!).
One morning I didn't come stone-motherless-last, and it appeared (at least to me) that I didn't hold anyone in the group up! I won't mention who was behind me that one particular day... They know who they are, and I'm not buying the "sore back" story!!
Feb 5th (16 Weeks to go...)
Km's / Week: 202
I got to the point where my legs and lungs no longer felt like imploding after riding fifteen minutes... Progress, though painfully minimal, was more than welcome...
Dec 20 - Jan 29th (22 Weeks to go...)
Average Kms / Week: 184
Nothing short of purgatory...!! There's no other way to describe it!! Including 4.30am starts, where I wrongly figured that over-dosing on caffeine may somehow make up for a lack of fitness... The thing I hadn't factored is that all the seasoned pro's also start with a coffee or two - so no advantage there!! The lowest point was being (almost literally) carried into an air-conditioned Hungry Jacks / Service Station (thanks Geoff!) to re-hydrate and recuperate, on a day of cycling 100kms in 36 degree heat!!
Another "low" was diligently practising and executing my safety signals for the benefit of the riders behind me... And 15 minutes into this exercise realising that I had been dropped by the pack and was dead-last! Literally there was no-one behind me to benefit from my diligence! At least there was also no-one there to witness my painful realisation that I was last again!
The crowd was visably moved when Therese shared very personal tales of her treatment, having to have six bags of blood transfused into her 10 year old body every day. The isolation she felt from her friends, being cooped up in a hospital for weeks and months on end, and the joy, comfort and acceptance she felt while attending Camp Quality. 
